


Dangerous Profession

by forparadise



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bounty Hunters, Helmets, M/M, Mandalorian, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:41:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22010470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forparadise/pseuds/forparadise
Summary: Mando and Toro, on the trail of a bounty, spend time in the Dune Sea waiting for nightfall.(Takes place during Chapter/Episode 5 of the show)
Relationships: Din Djarin/Toro Calican, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Toro Calican, Toro Calican/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 129





	Dangerous Profession

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pallidiflora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallidiflora/gifts).



When Din says: _meet me at Hanger 35 in half an hour,_ he gets a feeling in his gut that tells him it's the first step down a path of regrettable decisions. Toro’s face lights up--yes, he’ll find them some speeders, yes, he’ll grab the supplies. His eagerness is off-putting enough, but when Din asks him for the tracking fob that will locate Shand for them, and instead of giving it to him Toro smashes it to prove a point that he’s no pushover, Din is sure he's already at his limit. Still, he's been staring at Toro's lips, admiring the way he stands with a hip out like he owns the place; his defiance is irritating and more than a little enticing.

Din could tell what kind of person Toro was as soon as he opened his mouth. The unlikely kind of person who actually, really, _wanted_ to be a part of the guild. Most every bounty hunter (at least, the ones that lasted) had some kind of story to tell about how they ended up there--or because of who, or because of what--and when asked, most of them didn’t want to talk about it. Din knows that this kid would talk. He also knows that most of whatever came out of his mouth would be lies or bragging, and the thought of dealing with it felt like more of a burden than any of it was worth.

Despite himself, he ends up back at Peli’s repair facility, giving a half-assed excuse about leaving for a bounty. In such a vulnerable state, going after a bounty this dangerous went against all of his common sense, but he knew it wasn’t the only driving force bringing him out there. When Toro shows up faster than expected with the speeders, Din sees it in him, too. His urge to impress, the impatience; _what do you think?_ Toro asks, watching him as he eyes the vehicle. Din, in part, is considering it’s quality, but also he’s thinking: If we leave now, it would take this long, there’s a stretch of space in the Dune Sea, nobody would, we could. Din knows they want the same thing. Almost. It would have to do.

Out on the sands, Toro’s abrasiveness intensifies. He’s being argumentative, defiant, challenging Din on the speeders, but Din knows it’s all display. What he notices, more importantly--like when he hands over his new binocs without much more than a disappointed pout--is the boy’s willingness to submit when it mattered.

When they reach their destination and locate their target with a shot to the chest on Din’s part, most everything outside of the bounty has left his thoughts. The adrenaline he gets from a hunt--it’s what he lives for. It’s usually his best distraction. What he’s not familiar with is the nagging at the back of his mind that is likely guilt for having left the Child behind. Sure, Peli seemed honest enough, but if someone were to come and try to collect on the Child’s ransom? He had seen nicer people give up more than a baby they didn’t even know to stay out of that kind of mess. What was worse--he had been on Tatooine for all of an hour but had acted like this was the only opportunity to get credits. Even Peli had probably noticed how thin of an excuse that was.

When they get to cover away from Shand, he situates himself back against his borrowed speeder to rest, cringing at the fresh bruise on his chest. It doesn’t take long for Toro to join him, even though he's supposed to be on watch duty-- _she’s either going to stay or go; watching the rock from a distance isn’t going to change anything._ On a different day, Din would argue.

Toro gets close. _Does it hurt?_ he asks, reaching for the scorched chestplate where Shand’s sniper blast had hit him. Din brushes his hand back and Toro grins, dropping it to Din’s thigh instead. He doesn’t push it away this time, so Toro moves to grab his cock through his pants. It surprises him--the kid was even more eager than he was, although Din felt confident that he was the one who had undoubtedly gone longer without.

Toro moans and leans into it when he doesn't resist, his fingers trying to curl around the outline of Din’s cock with the earnestness of someone trying to prove something, trying to work for something. Din had nothing to offer him, of course, but he assumed acting like this was second nature to someone like Toro. Din had seen his type many times--the kind of ambitious boy who dreamt of fame and fortune but had few means of getting it; the kind who had probably paid for his first puck, especially one of this caliber, with a handjob or with his mouth around someone’s dick. Din had given a few pucks away himself that way, back when he hadn’t needed the money so badly and the bounties had flowed a lot more freely.

The memory gives him a warm, almost embarrassed feeling, which really drives home how long it’s been since he’s lived that way--he hasn’t done anything like that in over a decade.

_Mando, come on..._ Toro is closer now, and there’s a familiar look in his eye. Back in the day, new recruits always got a thrill out of meeting their first Mandalorian, let alone having the chance to be with one. Nowadays, whether novice or veteran, the looks he got were the same--shock, concern, contempt. Toro’s look was different--familiar in an old way. Excitement.

Din grabs him by the hips and pulls him onto his lap. If they’re going to do this, they have to get it over with quickly, with Shand and her sniper blaster out there.

Toro keeps his hand where it is and settles with his thighs spread on either side of Din’s lap. He drops his forehead against Din’s helmet and he’s already breathing hard enough to fog the visor. Din knew he would put on a show. Toro fumbles with the hidden waistband around Din's hips and manages to get a hand inside his pants, moaning and cursing as he tugs at him, Din already hard in his hand. Din usually tries not to think about how long it's been; tries not to quantify time spent without sex which would only be a distraction when he's out on missions or piloting the Razor Crest or doing important, important things (oh kriff--the Child; the Child is fine--he's a great judge of character and he never would have left it with Peli if he had thought it'd be unsafe, but) but with a hand squeezing his cock behind the soft parts of his armour, all he can think about is how long it’s been.

The last three or four times he's been alone he's wound up finding his way down to the cargo hold, or to the woods outside of his tent, or wherever he could be by himself for even a moment; staying as quiet as he could, trying to make it as perfunctory as he could. Trying. Except, lately, events had left him feeling wound tighter than ever. Lately, he had found himself secreting away for a chance to be alone more often than usual; he had found himself in such a state that the last time he was alone he had--thinking about one of his fellow Mandalorians--fingered himself until he came so hard it left his legs shaking.

This is where his and Toro's wants didn't exactly line up--what he really wants, _needs_ , is to be fucked. But as Toro rubs over his lap like a loth-cat in heat, whispers against his helmet, _kriff, you’re so big; Mando, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me; please, come on_ , his hands fumbling to undo Din's pants with a look on his face that is unabashedly grateful and turned on and maybe even a little nervous that if he doesn't move fast enough, it might stop--Din figures this will have to do.

He arches his hips off the ground and helps pull his own pants down to around his knees. Toro quickly strips his own off and settles back down on him, the bare flesh of the other causing each of them to pull in a sharp breath. Din takes both of their cocks in his hand and tugs, glove still on. He wasn't going to remove any more of his armour, not here. Toro's brow knits, but to Din's satisfaction, he doesn't pull back. He moans, shifts, and eventually adjusts to the feeling, thrusting up into Din's fist to meet each of his strokes. Din is used to the feeling of his own glove, it's familiar, even welcoming. Lately, he hasn't even been taking his helmet off when he's alone--it works to muffle the sound since he hasn't actually been really alone for a while.

Toro is slicking lubrication that he must have had ready in his pocket or belt over his fingers and then he positions his hand behind his ass. He presses his fingers into himself and the display is a good one--he drops down onto his own fingers over and over, cock bouncing, lips apart and eyes focused on Din's visor, for what it's worth.

He moans out fantasies about Din's cock replacing his fingers, about wanting to be bent over, about wanting to be taken, and Din grunts words of encouragement, but he doesn't give him what he wants. He waits until Toro can't handle it anymore; waits until Toro pushes him back against the speeder and grabs his cock, guiding it up into himself. He slowly fills himself with it, slowly starts to move. Din sits back and lets him. Toro laughs and puts his hands on either of Din's shoulders, thumbs brushing over the material that covers his neck. He adjusts quickly. _You like that?_ he says, using his hands to push Din back, hard enough against the speeder that it starts to be uncomfortable. _You like when I do this to you?_ Din moans in response--he's getting it. His hands rub along Toro's naked thighs, but he doesn't help. The exertion is evident through Toro's expression, through the sweat on his brow. The sun has begun to set, but the desert temperatures remain.

He moves his hands so that one of them tugs Din's scarf down enough to reveal skin where neck meets shoulder. He puts his mouth there and Din moans deep and long at the simple feeling of lips and tongue and teeth. He wraps his hand back around Toro's cock and strokes him. They move at the same pace and Toro breathes wet against his neck, pulling more at any material he can find, trying to reveal as much skin as the bulky armour will allow.

When Din notices pressure building in his belly, when--without really realizing--his hips start to move along with Toro's, he feels fingers slip up to press against the underside of his helmet. Toro's other hand grabs the side of his head and pulls it back, making him groan; his mouth moves to Din's exposed, stubbled throat. Every single part of Din wants to reflexively stop this, to grab the hand and face and push the intruder away, this person he barely knows, but within a moment he's coming so abruptly it shocks both of them. His whole body tenses and he chokes out a moan which his comm muffles, making it sound pained, not unlike when he took a shot from the blaster earlier. Toro gasps and rides him through it, and then moves his hands down so he can work at finishing himself off, quickly, while Din is still complacent and inside him. Din is just thankful that the eager boy can't see his face--how overwhelmed he must look, how shell shocked. Toro comes moments later, his whine pitched enough that Din has to shush him because--because they're in the middle of the Dune Sea and there's a sniper close enough nearby that she may have just gotten a pretty decent show; that or she's long gone by now.

He pushes Toro off of him and readjusts himself. Toro does the same; he looks pleased with himself. _Don't worry. We're too far away. She's still up there,_ he says, and Din is irritated with him all over again. _I'm not worried,_ he says. _Now get back to your post._ Toro looks like he wants to argue, but does what he's told, and Din is glad that he at least seems to know when to pick his battles.

This doesn’t stop him from thinking, though, as he settles back against the speeder to try and get some rest, that the kid’s hotheadedness will eventually be more problem than it’s worth. 

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas Pallidiflora! <3 
> 
> And thank you to any readers :D (May 2020 bring us all an endless supply of m/m Mandalorian fic)


End file.
